Talking Body
by Ali989969
Summary: Harry has spent the last six years traveling the world as a Muggle, wanting to escape the stigma of The Chosen One after Voldemort's defeat. When he returns to Wizarding England, he's surprised by the changes he missed taking place and how two certain schoolmates have changed as well. Threesome/MMF/slash


As he watched them glide together across the hotel ballroom, he had to admit, even if just to himself, that they were sickeningly perfect together.

After the war, Harry wanted nothing more than peace and anonymity. He did his duty, standing with the Weasleys as they buried Fred. As Teddy's godfather, he assisted Andromeda with the funerals for Remus and Nymphadora. Then, he left. He left England, Ginny, The Golden Trio, The Chosen One, and magic itself behind him, wanting to travel and explore the world as a Muggle.

Last he'd seen, six years earlier, Ron and Hermione were inching toward the couple they'd been meant to be since Fourth Year. When she understandingly kissed him goodbye, Ginny smiled through her tears and simply said that she'd miss him. He didn't ask her to wait for him and she didn't offer.

When his exploring was done, he retrieved his wand from his Muggle safe deposit box and slipped unnoticed into The Leaky Cauldron, intending to eavesdrop on the latest Wizarding World gossip. The late afternoon hour ensured a thin crowd and Harry felt luck was with him that his chosen booth had a copy of that morning's _Daily Prophet_.

The engagement of Quidditch superstars Marcus Flint and Ginevra Weasley was front page news. More than anything, when he looked at the picture of his ex on her broom next to the burly former Slytherin, he was pleased that she seemed happy. A few pages later there was a small picture of Ron and George opening a Hogsmeade location of the joke shop. Angelina Johnson stood proudly next to the older brother while Katie Bell had her arm wrapped affectionately around the waist of the younger. What had happened to Hermione? Why was she not at Ron's side?

"Blaise, you know as well as I do that he wants it for his birthday. All you have to do is say 'yes'," a familiar voice said from the Diagon Alley entrance. It reminded Harry of the cajoling tone used on the boys to get them to do their homework in the Gryffindor common room.

"I said no Granger, and no amount of puppy eyes or pouty lips are going to change my mind. He's the best friend I have in the world and I love him like a brother, but that's as far as it goes. I don't swing that way and I'm not willing to muck up a thirteen-year friendship by trying to force it. He knows this; it's why it's never happened." The dark-skinned man with spring-green eyes glowered at the curly-haired brunette. "You asked me for a birthday gift idea; I gave you one. It's up to you to see it through to fruition."

"Damn it, Zabini. I can't think of anyone else. It has to be someone we both trust and are both attracted to. Someone who won't overstay their welcome. This is strictly a one-time thing…" she said in the same persuasive voice.

"Still not interested. Drop it, Granger," he said with a growl, watching to crowd grow in the dingy pub. With an impressive swish of his robes, he turned and stormed out the way he entered.

"Shit," Hermione muttered to herself and stared blankly around the dark paneled room. In a dimly lit corner, she noticed a head of messy black hair that she'd recognize anywhere. In four long strides, she approached the booth with a beaming smile. "Harry! I've missed you so much! When did you get back?"

"My plane from Stockholm landed at Heathrow just before noon. I made a few stops in London before coming here. It was time to come home. I was looking over _The Prophet_ and I'm a little shocked at how much has changed. I mean, Ginny and _Flint_? Ron and _Katie_? What's next, you and Malfoy?" The Boy Who Lived chuckled, expecting his friend to join him.

To his surprise, her cocoa eyes narrowed and her smile disappeared. "Draco is a good man, Harry. A lot of things _did_ change when the war ended; you just didn't stick around to see them happen. I get why you left, probably more than anyone else you know. But you can't blame to world for continuing to spin."

Harry raised a skeptical eyebrow. " _Malfoy_ changed? He'd no longer a prejudiced git who wants to _Avada_ you just for existing? Did you forget that his aunt tortured you in front of him and he did _nothing_?"

" ** _Nothing_** is what kept him and his parents alive. **_Nothing_** is what gave him night terrors for over a year. **_Nothing_** caused him to cry out in his sleep and kick his mother in the ribs when she tried to wake him. I was on-duty when Lucius flooed into St. Mungo's. When a house-elf told Draco what happened, he followed. I was still training, but I had the bone-mending charm down pat. I gave Narcissa a calming draught then left her to rest while her ribs healed. Draco was in the hall, devastated that he'd hurt his mum, and blaming himself all over again. I got a calming draught for him too and took him to the tea room during my break.

"He was forced into most of the things we vilified him for. They pensieved his memories when they were on trial. Voldemort threatened Draco with his mother's life, Bellatrix threatened Narcissa with Draco's, and both of them were held over Lucius' head. Yes, they _were_ pureblood supremacists, but that was all they knew. Since the war ended, they've opened their minds a bit," Hermione explained right before her face lit up in a blinding smile.

"Evening, love. I missed you today," said an aristocratic voice as it approached the table. A tall, well-built platinum blond slid into the booth next to Hermione and kissed her cheek soundly before inspecting her companion. "Potter," he said politely with a nod of his head. "Welcome back to the UK."

"Malfoy," Harry responded, bewildered by the former Slytherin's congenial tone. "Thanks. It's good to be back. I didn't realize how much I'd missed it until I was home."

As Draco and Hermione chattered about their days and plans for the evening, Harry reflected on why he ultimately left Sweden. Brynn was sweet, smart, and beautiful. Her long, strawberry-blonde hair fell just past her shoulder blades in gentle waves and she had turquoise eyes that had a way of seeing into his soul and knowing exactly what he needed.

Almost two of his six years abroad were spent with the attractive Swede. Things started as fun, but got serious after a little more than a year. After a few months, she made arrangements to introduce him to her intimidatingly large family of scary older brothers. Gustav, Bjorn, and Jan all glared at him over dinner for compromising their little sister's virtue. Then there was Leif.

The middle brother was laid-back and relaxed where the majority of the family had a similar mindset to Percy Weasley. He laughed loudly and often, teasing and playing with Brynn as opposed to lecturing and sermonizing to her about her choices in life.

When the holiday was over, Harry and Brynn returned to their small northern town; Leif kept in touch with the couple and began visiting as often as he was able. It became nothing for Harry and Leif to spend time alone while Brynn was either working or studying for her university classes.

They were playing chess when Harry decided to study the man who would likely become his brother-in-law. His hair was dark blonde, just a shade or two too light to be called brown. It was long, just past his shoulders, and tied back with a leather cord. Narrowed in concentration, Harry noticed that Leif's eyes were icy, a unique shade between gray, green, and blue. They tended to change colors depending on his mood; almost always they were blue and sparkling with humor.

The man was tall, like all of Brynn's brothers, but at 6'4", only one of them was taller than Leif. His body was long and lean with muscle from skiing and swimming. Like his sister, no matter the season, his skin kept a healthy golden glow. With a high forehead, sharp cheeks, and full lips, he was a model of stereotypical Scandinavian male beauty.

Harry had never thought of a man as beautiful before. As the weeks and months passed, the green-eyed man realized that he was just as attracted to Leif as he was to Brynn and it shook him. After a night of pub crawling, Harry learned that the attraction was mutual.

Brynn was passed out in their room; Harry was in the wide-awake stage of his inebriation. Leif had stayed mostly sober in case he needed to drive. The two men played a racy game of Twenty Questions to pass the time. In his accented baritone, Leif asked, "Have you ever kissed another man?" When the younger man shook his head the blond quickly followed up with, "Have you ever wanted to?"

If they hadn't been Muggles, Harry would have sworn he was dosed with Veritaserum. Blushing furiously, he couldn't help but nod. Moving slowly, giving the raven-haired man a chance to stop things if he wanted, Leif leaned in to brush his lips over those of his sister's boyfriend. It was an unfamiliar sensation, but not unpleasant in the slightest. He deepened his kiss with the taller man and tried to understand why he liked it just as much as kissing Brynn.

Over the next couple of months, the two men secretly explored the chemistry between them. After they had sex though, they both knew it had to end. Harry was sick with himself for betraying Brynn and Leif couldn't stand the thought of hurting his beloved little sister.

Using the excuse of needing to return home, Harry ended his relationship with the Swedish girl. Both cried; one because she was in love and the other because he didn't love enough. After a last, lingering kiss, Harry packed his meager belongings and booked a flight back to London.

"… since you're back Potter, you're free to come as well. You haven't had the privilege of attending a Malfoy ball," Draco said, interrupting Harry's thoughts.

"Sorry, what?" he asked, still not used to manners and smiles from the blond man.

"Draco's birthday ball in two months," explained Hermione. "It's second only to the annual New Year's Ball. It's quite the event. You should come; it'll give you a chance to catch up with everyone." She rested her head on her… what exactly were they to each other?

The dark haired man gestured between the two sitting across from him. "How long has… _this_ been going on?"

The witch rolled her eyes, but the man next to her answered. "It will be three years in July. Mother is in heaven because not only is she planning my birthday gala, but she's truly in her element, organizing the Wizarding World's 'wedding of the century' for December," he said with an eye-roll of his own. "You'll be invited also, of course."

The three ordered dinner and drinks, filling their stomach as they caught Harry up on current events. Neville was the Herbology professor at Hogwart's and married to Hannah Abbott. Luna was off traveling, searching for creatures that didn't exist and occasionally reporting for _The Quibbler_. Lavender Brown ended up marrying a pureblood from Beauxbatons while Seamus and Dean finally came out. They opened a café in Hogsmeade, putting Seamus' proclivity for flambé to practical use.

Draco updated him on the lives of the Slytherins in their year. Nott Sr. and Goyle Sr. were both in Azkaban as they willingly followed the Dark Lord. Their sons, Theo and Greg, were contributing large portions of their family vaults to charities for war orphans and widows as well as the rebuilding efforts just to be able to go out in public. Astoria Greengrass had taken an apprenticeship with Madame Malkin, whose shop was starting to feature the witch's exclusive designs. Blaise, proficient in potions and charms, had opted to go into healing. Hermione worked in spell damage while the dark wizard dealt with magical bugs. While they no longer felt any animosity toward each other, no one with sense would call them friends.

Hermione's eyes started to droop and her fiancé called for the check. Harry told them that he intended to inhabit Grimmauld Place until he found a more comfortable place to hang his hat… with fewer painful memories.

On her mid-week afternoon off, his curly-haired friend flooed in with a warm cauldron of beef stew (Kreacher had been squished by a stumbling giant during the final battle), her favorite blend of tea, and a ready ear. Although she maintained her other friendships from her Hogwart's days, Hermione would always consider Harry her best friend, as he did with her.

After filling their bellies with delicious food from Malfoy Manor's house-elves (the freedom of which Hermione and Narcissa had agreed to disagree about), the pair settled in the relatively comfortable sitting room to talk for the first time in many years. Despite the time and distance, their friendship was as strong and intact as ever.

Although the fact hadn't escaped him in The Leaky Cauldron, sitting there with her alone, Harry had to admit that the years had been kind to Hermione. When the war ended, she had been skinny, bedraggled with shadows below her eyes, and jumpy from being tortured. Six years later, her once-frizzy hair fell in a wild cascade of curls to her elbows. No longer emaciated and malnourished, her breasts and hips filled out, proportionate to her petite frame, making her already trim waist seem ever smaller. The sparkle in her mocha eyes and clarity of her peaches-and-cream complexion testified to the happiness and health of her current lifestyle. He'd always thought she was _cute_. When she'd gotten her teeth fixed in Fourth Year and he'd seen her dressed up for the Yule Ball, he could concede that she was kind of pretty.

Now, no longer a girl, no longer on the run from demented dark wizards, happy and secure with her place in the world, and blooming with the love of a man who she loved in return, he had to admit. She was beautiful. The longer he looked at her, he realized that while the potential was always there, her outside finally reflected the good, kind, generous – yes, beautiful – soul that was inside.

She also always kept his secrets, even if it would have been better if she hadn't. Harry told Hermione about Sweden, Brynn, and Leif. He could tell by her expression that she didn't judge him for either his infidelity or his surprise bisexuality. "Do you even have a type, Harry," she asked with a giggle. "First a petite Asian, then a slender, freckled ginger with an athletic build, a taller-than-average blonde muggle _and_ her much-taller-than-average brother! They only thing they have in common is long hair. Is that your thing?"

He chuckled himself at his unwitting diversity. "I don't think that was a factor, just a coincidence. I've never really thought about what attracts me. What is it about Malf… Draco? What happened with Ron?"

The witch gave her friend a dreamy smile reminiscent of Luna. "Ron and I would have never worked long-term. He wanted a young, hot version of Molly. You know me Harry. I never wanted to put my life and dreams on hold to be a housewife and mum. Katie is good for him, plus she loves Quidditch as much as he does.

"Draco knows being a healer is important to me and that I fully intend to stay at St. Mungo's after we marry. He also knows nothing is certain after we have children. When we started dating, he was all about extravagance – fancy dress robes, exclusive clubs, expensive restaurants – just like every pureblood witch he dated before expected. When he asked me to plan a date, I flipped it on him. I made some sandwiches, biscuits, and lemonade and took him to the shore for a picnic. When he proved to be just as impressive with no frills – just as intelligent, charming, and attractive – in jeans and a t-shirt as he is in designer robes, he had me

"He lets me… explore. I never had the inclination or opportunity to go through normal teenage rebellion and experimentation. You know Ron never dealt well with change or anything unconventional. Draco is very free and confident in who he is and what we have. It's taken some adjustment on my part because I can't remember a time in my life where I haven't had to hide some part of myself… yes, even with you, Harry," she said in response to her friend's skeptical glare. "But when I'm with Draco, he just wants me to be me, no matter who that _me_ happens to be at the time. I'm the same with him. There's no part of Draco that he doesn't feel he can't tell me."

The wizard accepted Hermione's reasoning, even if he was still a little hurt that Malfoy knew his best friend better than he did. The pair continued to spend time together in the weeks before Draco's birthday, occasionally joined by one or more of the Weasleys or the fiancé himself. When Hermione left the parlor to work on dinner, Harry thought perhaps he was delusional because there was _no way_ the blond wizard would be gazing hungrily… at him. He was also certain that once or twice, the witch Malfoy was engaged to had seen him returning the stare.

Tall, lean but muscular. If Harry had a type for men he was attracted to, that would seem to be it. It was quite unfortunate then, that the one he wanted to play with was in a committed relationship with a woman who was **almost** like a sister… except for the fact that he'd come in his hand to fantasies of her and daydreams of what her lusciously full lips would feel like.

The week before Draco's birthday, Harry and Hermione went shopping together for their formalwear. Harry's dress robes were easy: bottle green damask that brought out the vivid color of his eyes. Hermione's dress was harder. As much as it turned her fiancé on to see her dressed in his former house colors, the cool green and silver didn't compliment her warm complexion.

It wasn't until they ventured into Muggle London that Hermione found her dress. A deep wine-red sheath with delicate spaghetti straps. The raw silk clung to her curves from chest to ankle, with a hip-high slit for movement. Her strappy gold heels pulled everything together. When she stepped out of the dressing room, she posed for her friend. "Well?" she asked uncertainly.

All complex thoughts were wiped from his head at the same time his blood-flow pumped south. His focus was on the single smooth leg framed by the luxe burgundy fabric and highlighted by the metallic shoe. "You… uh… you look amazing, 'Mione," the man stammered, awed by the beauty his friend had become.

She kissed his cheek in thanks and returned to the cubicle to change again. After making her purchases, the pair stopped by an outdoor café for tea and afternoon sunlight. Hermione sipped her beverage and gave her friend a penetrating stare. "So when did you become attracted to my fiancé, Harry?"

He choked on his drink at the blunt question. When he finally cleared his throat, he managed to answer. "Changing after Quidditch at that pick-up game a few weeks ago. He's built similarly to Leif. When he's not being a prejudiced bullying prat, he's actually very smart and funny in the same dry, intellectual way that you are. Yes, I'm attracted to him, but I'd never dream of doing anything about it. He's yours."

"Yes he is," she agreed. "He does everything in his power to make me happy, just as I do for him. I'm also a hell of a lot more observant than he gives me credit for. I'm going to ask you a question Harry, and I want you to answer honestly, without regard to my feelings. Can you do that?"

Harry nodded uncertainly, curious as to what his friend would ask with a precursor like that. She fixed him with that intense gaze again. "If you had one night – and one night _only_ – with Draco, could you live with that? And," she said, holding up a hand to stop him from answering yet, "would it matter if the sole qualification to have that night would be my presence? I'd say my participation, but I don't want to be presumptuous."

"Honestly, 'Mione? The night with Malfoy, if he were to agree, is something I've dreamed about. To have you included as well… I'd be lying if I said that didn't sweeten the pot. But I'm not willing to do anything that could hurt or ruin our friendship."

Hermione smiled and reached across the table to ruffle his perpetually messy hair. "Silly Harry, if that were a risk, I wouldn't make the offer. Here's what I'm thinking…" The brunette detailed her plans for her fiancé's birthday gift. While Blaise had nudged her in the right direction, only she had all the information and connections to put everything together.

 ****To keep with FF content rules, the rest of this story can be found at my wordpress ali989969 . wordpress . com (delete spaces)****


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